


Clawing Under

by Udunie



Series: Tumblr prompts [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, Knotting, M/M, Mind Control, Partner Swapping, Rape/Non-con Elements, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Peter uses the Claw Thing to get himself the perfect little mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:(1 /2 )God, I was reading some of your older MindControl fics and it gave me wicked thoughts. Like maybe Peter lost his mate in the fire and doubts anyone would ever measure up naturally. So he goes about creating his own perfect mate. He sees Stiles in a parking garage one day and just sneaks up thrusts his claws into his neck. And suddenly, he has his perfect mate. They go on dates, are all around lovey dovey and everyone is happy for them.  
> (2/2) And of course, Stiles is happy to suck half the Sheriff’s station if Peter wills it. Everything is going great to outsiders, and they are even getting married in the spring. But inside Stiles is still struggling, forced to comply with Peter’s every wish. He hates Peter for taking away his will until Peter tells him the effects wore off weeks ago, Stiles has been perfect for Peter entirely by his own will.  
> (3/2) Afterwards, Stiles embraces being Peters fully, and Peter starts to think maybe he has room for a few more perfect mates.

The world - as far as Peter was concerned - was a better place for werewolves being out in the open. It wasn’t like he didn’t like hiding, let’s be honest, the shadows were always his element, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the limelight on occasion.

Nowadays, being a werewolf was more or less like being at least a minor celebrity. But, as much as human society was obsessed with them, there were still things they didn’t know, that not even every ‘wolf knew; long forgotten arts of the weres’ that only a few lucky ones had access to - and talent for.

Like, for example, the ability to take someone’s free will away.

***

Peter saw him on a Saturday night. He was just out for a stroll - the moon close to full making him antsy - when he saw a group of twenty-somethings stumble out of a bar. Usually he wouldn’t have paid them any attention, but one of them - a tall, thin little thing - smelled so good that his gums started itching with the need to _bite_.

He stayed out of sight, but watched as they laughed, talking loudly about something he had no interest in. It didn’t take long for them to part, the one he wanted heading for the train station.

Peter followed.

***

He caught up before the boy could get there. The closer he got, the more Peter wanted to _take_ , to make him his own any way he could. It was only natural to do it the easiest, most throughout way possible.

He was pretty sure the boy didn’t even realize what happened - one minute, he was walking down the empty, dark street, and the next he was dragged into a dirty alley and there were claws embedded into the back of his neck.

Peter was ready, he caught the boy before he could fall, eyes burning blue as he concentrated. He didn’t think about it too much, just let his instincts take over.

“What’s your name?” he asked, after pulling his hand back. The kid’s eyes fluttered open, pupils blown, eyes glazed over. He fell to his knees, whining high in his throat as he palmed Peter’s crotch in what could only be called desperation.

Peter snorted, well... They could have a chat later.

Peter opened his pants when it became obvious that the boy was too crazed to coordinate the simple task. By the time his cock was pulled out, he was already hard.

His ears drank up the sounds the boy made. He was a vocal one, but Peter couldn’t hear anyone approaching in a mile, so it was okay. The dumb little thing could moan and groan to his heart’s content.

The boy didn’t waste time, as soon as his eyes fell on Peter’s dick, his mouth fell open - pink little tongue peaking out - and then he was on it, sloppily kissing the head, running his lips all over it with a blissed out look on his face.

Peter leaned back against the wall of the alley, parting his legs a bit to give better access.

“That’s right, baby, suck me off,” he growled, his wolf a bit calmer now that he had his chosen one under his thumb.

He buried his fingers in the boy’s already mussed, brown locks, pulling on them a bit to get him on track and stop playing around.

That was all the kid needed. He gave Peter a stupid grin and opened his mouth wide, swallowing him as best as he could. It was obvious that he wasn’t practiced in giving blow-jobs. Maybe it was his first one, but his enthusiasm was still enough to make Peter drop his head back against the wall. Honestly, the gagging was nice too. Peter already knew that he was well endowed, but there was a certain rush, when one’s partner was literally choking on his cock. It sounded like _power_ , and Peter loved power.

“That’s it, baby, keep going,” he said, palming the back of the boy’s head and pulling him down until his eyes rolled back from the lack of oxygen.

He kept him there for a few seconds, letting him go when his heartbeat started to grow sluggish.

The boy pulled back, turning away and heaving onto the ground. He didn’t throw up, but it was a close thing. 

Peter slapped him hard for good measure, fisting his hair and keeping him in place as he pushed his cock back into his mouth again.

The boy made a sound, but it was quickly silenced by the thick dick plunging into his throat. Peter fucked his face for a bit, the kid lax and unresistant. Peter could see that the front of his jeans turned dark - he had no idea if he pissed himself or shot his load and he didn’t really care right now.

When he came, he did so on the boy’s face, covering his cute, upturned nose with his come. He rubbed the mess into his skin with the head of his cock.

“Well, that was great,” he said, wolf finally sated. He pulled the boy to his feet, easily finding his phone in his back pocket. Peter put his number in quickly, noting the quirky names in the contact list.

He put his number under ‘Man of My Life’.

He pushed the boy against the wall, putting his phone back.

“Listen to me, baby,” he said, waiting until those dazed eyes focused on him. “You are going to go home, just like this, with your face covered in my come. You will _not_ wash it down. I want you to wake up tomorrow and lick your lips and taste me there. Then, you will remember the charming man you’ve met tonight, and you will call me. You will ask me on a date, understood?”

The boy made a confused little sound, but then nodded, smiling shakily at Peter.

He patted the kid’s cheek.

“You will be such a good, obedient little mate.”


	2. Chapter 2

They went to a restaurant on their first date. Peter picked the boy - Stiles - up at seven sharp, making a pretty a good impression on his flatmate; a puppy of a kid called Scott.

Peter fucked him against the dumpsters out back afterwards. He had to dig his claws in again at one point, when the boy started to have a look of mild panic, but other than that, everything was going smoothly.

Before their date, Peter had half a mind to finish it like that. Get the fuck he wanted and be done with it.

But, when Stiles’ sweet little hole clutched his cock just right, and he was moaning so wantonly, he had to realize that he wanted more.

He wanted everything.

***

A month later found him having dinner with Stiles and his father. He already met the Sheriff once, and quickly managed to get over the man’s initial suspicion. It wasn’t that hard, when Stiles was doing better in school, exercised regularly and generally had his life a lot more together than before he’d met Peter.

Nobody had to know that all the positive changes had a bit more to do with him than a simple good influence.

Some mornings, when Stiles slept over, all Peter had to do was palm the back of his neck, and the boy went glassy eyed and dumb, drinking up his orders. It was all too easy to tell him what to do, from the jeans he was supposed to be wearing to the classes he had to spend more time studying to.

It wasn’t like Peter was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, oh, no. Sure, it was rewarding to have a smart, pretty mate, but more than that, everyone was happy, and happy people didn’t ask questions. Questions about things moving too fast, or why Stiles often had little recollection of their dates.

“That was amazing,” the Sheriff said, leaning back in his chair as he finished off his brownie. Peter made Stiles relax a bit about the constant nagging about his father health. Not too much, just enough to have John eating out of their palm. Almost literally.

Stiles smiled, getting up to gather the dishes. He was slowly and surely becoming very apt at housework. Just like a good mate should.

“Glad you liked it, daddy-o,” he said from the kitchen.

John stretched, standing and getting his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Well, as lovely as this was, I have to get to the station. Can I trust you two lovebirds to clean up?” he asked, patting Peter on the shoulder on his way to give Stiles’ forehead a kiss.

The boy grinned, bobbing his head.

“Sure thing, pops. See you in the morning!”

“Of course, Sheriff.”

John hummed, waving over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

***

He never fucked Stiles in his childhood bed before.

The whole space was so much like his little mate; smelling of stale boy sweat and too much masturbation from years ago. The Sheriff was kind of sentimental, and it seemed like he haven’t touched anything since the day Stiles moved away for college.

The bed-sheets were blue, the walls covered with posters. Peter could even spy a few plush toys on top of the closet as he fucked his boy into the mattress.

Stiles wasn’t really paying attention to his surrounding, all his focus taken up by holding his ass-cheeks nice and open for Peter while he bit his pillow to keep quiet.

They were already over their first knotting - on their third date, if he remembered correctly - so this time there was no need to warn the boy about what was happening. Not like he did that the first time either, it was fun to watch the boy struggle. So yeah, he might have let his control intentionally slip just to see him cry and trash locked to him, squirming on his cock to get away.

Just the memory of it was enough to have his dick fill to the maximum, the knot stretching that poor, abused hole to the limit.

Stiles was making little, pathetic sounds, like a prey animal pinned to the ground right before the kill.

“That’s right, baby. Milk my cock. You know how, I’ve already told you,” Peter said, annoyed that he had to give a reminder. Stiles whined, but squeezed down with his hole. It had to hurt with how full he was, but that wasn’t Peter’s problem.

“Does it feel good? I know it does, tell me…”

“Uh… uh. It. It hurts. It’s so bad,” the boy moaned, eyes teary. Peter leaned over him, licking at the faded scars on his nape.

“No, baby. That’s not how it feels, you _know_ this.”

Stiles’ whole body shuddered. Peter didn’t have to look to know that his skinny little cock was starting to fill.

“I…? Yeah. Yeah, it’s good. So, so good, love, so good for me…” Stiles muttered, eyes going cloudy.

Peter smirked. His eyes caught on a picture. It was Stiles, a much, much younger Stiles giving a gap-toothed grin to the camera with Scotty at his side.

It gave Peter an idea.

“I bet you pissed this very bed when you were small, didn’t you?” he growled. Stiles jerked, but nodded his head a fraction.

“Oh, you did! When? When was the last time you wet yourself? You know you can’t lie to me, baby…”

Stiles’ mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red than before.

“T-ten. I was ten…” he admitted.

Peter knew that it had to be because of his mother, but that didn’t stop him from inhaling deeply, hoping to catch a whiff of it from the mattress.

It didn’t work, and that just steeled his decision.

“Hm… And how was it, baby? How did it feel? Did you wake up right away, when it was warm and comfortable, soaking through your pjs? Or did you only notice it in the morning? When the whole mess was cold and your skin was itching from irritation?”

Stiles couldn’t reply, mouth hanging open as Peter circled his his, grinding his knot against the boy’s prostate.

“I want you to do it again.”

“Wh…?”

Peter bit Stiles' nape gently, not breaking the skin, just recalling the conditioning.

“Piss yourself, babe. Doesn’t my cock feel good? It’s so good, there’s no way you can stop yourself.”

Stiles was crying, chest heaving with his sobs, but it didn’t matter, not when the sharp smell of fresh urine hit Peter’s nose a second later.

He growled, coming even harder from the waves of shame he felt from the boy through their already forming mating bond.

“That’s right, baby. You’re such a desperate little bitch, you lose control over your body just from having a knot in your hungry little hole,” he said, even though he was pretty sure the boy wasn’t hearing him anymore, knocked by a mix of humiliation and exhaustion.

That was fine, they could do it as many times as Peter wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter didn’t exactly tell Stiles that he was going to pick him up from the coffee shop where he met with Scott, but honestly, their relationship was at a point where it wasn’t necessary. Stiles long since learned that Peter was the one who had every right to his time, regardless of what he was doing.

He didn’t abuse it, of course, that would have been unseemly, but it never hurt to remind the boy that if Peter wanted to spend time with him, he would better be ready and happy about it.

 _He_ wasn’t happy with what he found, though. For one, the little bitch was alone, Scott nowhere in sight, and second, there was someone flirting with him. From the apron, Peter guessed that it was one of the baristas on break, just a regular lowlife, but that didn’t make him see red any less.

To Stiles’ credit, he didn’t seem to be reciprocating, just looked mildly uncomfortable, absentmindedly rubbing at the nape of his neck.

But he was still letting it happen, and that was a big - big - no-no.

Peter strolled in, ignoring the pimpled barista and kissed his mate. He didn’t play around, fucking the boy’s mouth with his tongue, biting on his lips, until Stiles looked completely wrecked when they broke apart.

“Hi,” his mate said, eyes dazed. The barista was already gone, thankfully, but Peter still wasn’t quite satisfied.

“Come on, baby, we’re going, he said,” barely waiting long enough for him to get his things. He led Stiles out, shooting a look at the kid behind the counter that was cold enough to make him pale. Maybe Peter would come back after closing. Have a chat. And maybe a snack.

He put Stiles in the car and got in, not saying a word. Finally, Stiles seemed to realize that something was going on.

“Peter? What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding unsure and confused.

He reached over, squeezing the boy’s thigh a bit too hard for comfort, leaving his hand there.

“What’s wrong, baby? Hm, I wonder… If I didn’t come, how long would you have let that little midget flirt with you?” he asked, sounding pleasant. Stiles stiffened.

“What? Peter, I wasn’t… I just… I didn’t want to be rude,” he admitted finally.

Peter slid his hand higher, until he was palming Stiles’ cock. He hummed, closing his fingers around it with enough force to make the boy double over.

“I swear to god, I should just tear your cock right off, maybe that way you would learn not to play around,” he said.

Stiles didn’t reply, too busy whining. Peter wasn’t fooled, though, he could smell the arousal clearly.

“I mean, if you want to be a little a slut, I will let you, but at least give me the courtesy of choosing your partners,” he said as he drove deeper into the more run-down part of the city.

He stopped near a park, rolling down the window and taking a sniff. Ah, just what he was looking for.

***

There were three homeless guys huddling around a fountain in the park. The whole place was empty, not the kind of place where you would take your kids.

“Gentlemen,” Peter said, dragging Stiles after him. The boy was walking a bit funny - no wonder, since Peter spent the whole ride crushing his pathetic little cock. “Would any of you want a piece of this?” he asked, pushing Stiles forward.

There was a bit of a murmur, but the men were obviously suspicious, maybe thinking that it was some sort of trap. Well, that just wouldn’t do. Peter liked them. They were dirty, unwashed and smelly. A great lesson for his naughty mate.

“It’s fine, I’m being completely serious,” he assured them, walking closer. “He’s a slut for it, believe me.”

This close up, the stench of them was awful, almost making his eyes water. He was sure that it was bad even for Stiles, with his dumb, human nose.

“Come on, baby, show the gentlemen how much you want it,” he whispered, stepping behind the boy. “We all know what a nasty slut you are, so come on, piss yourself,”

Stiles was trembling, shaking his head, but all Peter had to do was gently blow on the nape of his neck and he moaned, bladder letting go. It was amazing really, but just like he expected, the shameless, blind obedience finally managed to convince the hobos that they had nothing to lose.

Peter spent the whole time leaning against a tree, watching avidly as his boyfriend got ruthlessly fucked. Stiles was bent over the bench, sucking a guy off while another rammed his cock in his ass. The boy was getting good at blowjobs, but he still kept gagging right now. Peter wasn’t really surprised. Those grimy, filthy cocks probably didn’t taste as good as his did.

At least the boy would start to appreciate appreciate how lucky he was a bit more.

Stiles was crying, retching when he was made to clean the dick of the first guy who fucked him. His cock was limp, but Peter was pretty sure that was only the result of the slight bruising he gave it. 

“That’s it, baby. Suck that cock nice and clean. The gentlemen here could use a bit of a tongue bath,” he snorted, throwing in a few words of encouragement here-and-there, but mostly just letting the homeless have their fun.

It took a pretty long time, because everyone wanted to go twice, naturally, but that was fine. Peter could still see everything in the dark.

By the time they were finished, Stiles was just as dirty as they were. His ass was gaping open, and there were dirty hand prints all over his pretty, white skin. He threw up onece or twice, but that was okay. Peter liked the sound of his gagging.

He made him dress up, pull on his jeans soaked with piss. Stiles kept crying.

“Aw, come on, baby. Don’t act like you didn’t have fun. I know that you’re a desperate bitch, they know that you’re a desperate bitch, it’s time to admit it,” he said, nudging the boy towards the car. Stiles was stumbling, too tired to coordinate.

“Come on, that was an order. Let me hear it,” Peter told him. He squeezed the boy’s ass, pushing the fabric of his jeans between his ass cheeks until it grew dark and clammy with the come seeping out of his dirty hole.

“I… I’m a desperate bitch…” Stiles said between sobs.

“Yeah, that’s what you are,” Peter said fondly. “But you are my desperate bitch.”

They finally reached the car, but Peter stopped him from getting to the passenger side.

“Hey, now. If you think I will let you ruin the upholstery, think again,” he chided, unlocking the trunk. It was a good thing it was already dark. Stiles looked a bit dumbfounded, but climbed in when Peter nodded his head towards the narrow space.

He looked at the boy for a few seconds, curled up in the trunk, dirty and stinking of come and the sour sweat of too many unwashed men. Such a lovely sight.

“You know, I think you should move in with me, hm?” he asked, reaching in to give another little pinch to the boy’s cock. Stiles mewled, but to Peter’s surprise, he caught his wrist, and held it there for a few extra seconds of pain.

“Oh, yeah, you will. And if anytime you act like a two-dollar whore again, we can come back here.”

Stiles blinked slowly, face a mess of tears and dirt and come and then smiled.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the actual fourth chapter.  
> The previous fourth chapter was the fifth... ^^;;;;;

Of course, Talia had to make their engagement party a ‘big’ deal. Peter knew she was happy that he finally found someone, but that didn’t mean that he was any less annoyed at having to play nice with so many people while he rather would have been home, destroying his sweet little mate’s hole with his knot. Or his fist. Or both.

His musing were cut short by his future father-in-law appearing beside him, thumping him in the back.

“Having fun, son?” the man asked, taking a sip of his whisky. 

“Of course I am. This is a big day for us,” Peter told him, going for friendly and earnest. That seemed to be a winning combination.

John nodded. He was a bit drunk - going by the smell - and a bit teary eyes. Peter was going to barf.

“Yeah, I know. Honestly, I never thought that Stiles would… that he would find someone who is just so good for him,” the man said, obviously moved.

Peter nodded along dutifully.

“By the way, where is that little rascal?” the Sheriff asked, looking around. Peter took his elbow and slightly nudged him towards Laura, who was always ready for a chat.

“Hm… I think he mentioned something about the oyster not agreeing with him. I will check on him,” he said, reassuring. Thankfully the man was already walking towards his niece. Crisis averted.

But, it _was_ time to check on his sweet little mate.

***

Stiles wasn’t in the bathroom. Well, he was, but in the one used by the guests. Peter scouted out the place yesterday, and found a small bathroom for the staff. All he had to do was get an ‘out of order’ sign, and tonight wasn’t as boring anymore.

The boy was exactly where he left him - sucking the cocks of a few ‘VIP’ guests. Ennis and Alan were there on Peter’s invitation, Parrish and Raf were there thanks to a bit of meddling on Peter’s part making them into horny animals.

Stiles was naked, his clothes hanging neatly on a hanger to make sure he would be respectable later in the evening. But he was anything but respectable right now.

His face was wet with tears, snot and drool - and quite a bit of come - as he kneeled on the floor, noisily slurping around the cock of Mr McCall. The man was well endowed, and pretty ruthless, fucking the boy’s face like there was no tomorrow.

Stiles was getting a bit blue in the face, so Peter pulled him off, killing the man’s aggression in it’s tracks by flashing his eyes at him. 

“How are you doing, my love?” he asked the boy, waiting patiently until he started breathing again properly.

Stiles moaned, tongue hanging out of his open mouth as he looked up at Peter with an empty expression.

“Aw, that well? Did you had your fill?”

The boy grinned slowly, looking like an idiot but shook his head. Peter slapped him a few times, waving Ennis closer.

“Yeah?” the big brute of a man asked. His cock was hanging out of his jeans.

“Make sure you give him enough, he’s not allowed to have a drink tonight, unless it’s from a cock, and I wouldn’t want him to be dehydrated,” he grinned, unbuttoning his own pants to lead with an example. He was only half hard - he already fucked the boy twice today, and he was more interested in humiliating him than getting off right now.

“Come on, love. Show me how thirsty you are,” Peter cooed, and Stiles was already shuffling forward, taking him in his mouth. His face turned absolutely blissed out the second Peter started pissing. Some of it escaped, the yellow liquid running down from the corner of his mouth and sliding down his neck, even though he was gulping it down greedily.

“Hey, not so sloppy,” Peter warned, taking a fistful of the boy’s hair and pulling on it hard enough to make his eyes water.

When he pulled back, Stiles belched, licking his lips and blinking slowly.

“Don’t worry, the little bitch already has at least five loads of piss in his belly,” Ennis said, stroking his cock. “And just as much come. I hope you don’t expect him to speak tonight, because I’m pretty sure we fucked the voice right out of him.”

Peter hummed.

“That’s fine. Just keep it up,” he told Ennis, then looked down on his mate. “And you, darling, sit.”

Stiles’ knees slid out from under his at the command, ass slapping against the cold tiles as he plopped down. Peter moved forward, stepping on his flaccid cock. He didn’t put his weight on it, though. Well, just a little bit.

The boy immediately started keening like a wounded animal, but made no move to free himself.

“Come on, baby, let it out then, you must be so full, you poor thing…”

Stiles’ head bobbed and his cock immediately started squirting out pee. Peter spent a few minutes playing; increasing the pressure with his feet until it stopped and then letting it tickle again until he was finished. 

The boy was left shaking, sitting in a pool of his own piss by the end of it.

Peter clucked his tongue as he looked down.

“Well, now my shoe is dirty… Love, get to it, would you?”

Stiles practically fell forward in his hurry to obey, licking Peter’s dress shoes clean of the few drops of wetness that landed on them.

It seemed the party wasn’t such a waste after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter was pretty much content with his life. He had a lovely, perverted little mate, a new family, and tomorrow he would get married.

All was right with the world.

He took a bit too long in the shower, but he thought it was important to look his best on the big day, and he was planning on a quick fuck in the morning, so he wouldn’t have time then…

When he finally finished with everything and went back to the bedroom in the hotel’s wedding suite, he was greeted with the sight of Stiles crying, curled up on the bed.

That was weird. He didn’t do anything today to get him in that state, and most of the time his little mate was all lovey-dovey when he wasn’t fucked into unconsciousness.

“What is it, love?” he asked, dropping his towel to the back of a chair. He liked to sleep in the nude. Preferably with Stiles’ loose hole warming his cock.

The boy unfolded, looking at Peter with reddened, hateful eyes.

He just raised an eyebrow, now he had a feeling that he knew what this was about.

“Y-you! I… I remember everything! You did… you did something…” he said, voice breaking over the words.

Oh, oh, poor little thing.

Peter smiled, walking over. Stiles’ eyes widened and he scrambled up towards the headboard, trying to get away.

“Well, well, well… What ever I should do? My evil deeds have come to light,” Peter said as he climbed on, chasing the boy like he was prey to his wolf. And really, that wasn’t such a stretch.

“Stop! Stay away!” the boy begged. Peter could smell how frightened he was, but the truth, the truth was lurking beneath the stench of terror.

When he finally reached his mate, Stiles tried to hit him. It was all too easy to catch his hand before it could make contact, and from there he only had to yank a bit to get his mate under him. Where he belonged.

The boy was struggling valiantly, but there was nothing he could do when facing a werewolf, and soon enough, Peter had his wrists above his head in a strong grip, the other one locked on the boy’s throat.

“Now, now, love. You are making a fuss. It’s completely understandable - you have to be nervous before your wedding, it’s sort of a social expectation. But I won’t have you disrespecting me,” he said, flashing his eyes. All it did was make Stiles struggle harder.

Peter laughed. How pathetic.

He bent down, and having him so close made the boy freeze. Peter licked into his ear, getting a shudder out of him.

“Stiles, Stiles, Stiles… I understand that you’re upset. I mean, it must be shocking to find out that you have been _forced_ to drink urine… or suck off a bunch of bums… I know it must be humiliating, outrageous, even…”

“Fuck you,” the boy croaked, heart drumming quickly in his chest.

“I understand all of that, love, but I have a question,” Peter crooned, nibbling at the lobe of his ear.

“Stiles, why are you hard?”

The boy went so still, that for a second Peter thought he died of mortification. Then he started sobbing when the man ground his hips down, rubbing their cocks together.

“Hm? Why is that, love? Aren’t you repulsed? Aren’t you terrified? Because, let me tell you, it smells like you’re a second away from coming just from the memories of what you’ve done.”

Peter sat up, letting his mate go. He tore the boy’s shirt open, enjoying the sight of his blotchy blush reaching down to the middle of his chest.

“You’re lying,” Stiles said, trying to roll away, but Peter was still pinning him down, straddling his hips.

“Love. You’ve just told me you remember everything. Do you remember when the last time I put my claws in you was? About two weeks into our dating. That was almost six months ago. Half a year, and it had all been _you_ ever since…”

“No! No, no, no…”

Peter smiled.

“Yes.”

He turned his mate over, pulling his underwear off too. He wasn’t resisting, all the fight gone now that he came face to face with the truth.

“And now, I’m going to knot that good-for-nothing ass of yours. I’m going to pump it full of come and then I’m going to piss right into your belly.”

Stiles cried harder, but made no move to get away, the smell of lust was so thick that Peter could have cut it with a knife.

“Please… please, don’t…”

“Oh, yes, I will. You’ve been extremely difficult today,” he said, pulling the boy’s ass cheeks apart and spitting into his crack. That was all the lubrication he was willing to give tonight. Not like Stiles’ hole wasn’t used enough to take him without too much pain.

“You need to be punished, and your punishment will be to get a nice, hot piss enema from your mate. You know what? When I’m finished, I’m going to plug you right up,” he said as he thrust inside, making Stiles cry out. “and you won’t be allowed to let it out tomorrow. I want you to say ‘I do’ at the altar while you can feel my piss sloshing around in your belly.”

The boy didn’t reply, but that was fine, Peter wasn’t interested in what he had to say anyway. He bottomed out quickly, and then started fucking into Stiles. His knot was already forming, just from thinking about his mate stinking of his piss all day tomorrow.

He tied quicker than usual, the pain of the stretch causing Stiles’ abused hole to spasm around his cock, milking him.

Peter bent down, licking at the long ago faded claw marks.

“What do you say when I make you feel good?” he asked, cock jerking as it emptied his seed deep inside.

There was a moment of pause.

“Thank you, love,” Stiles moaned brokenly, the cloying smell of his release spilling onto the sheets under them sharp as Peter let go of his bladder.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come soon!
> 
> Hit me up at udunie.tumblr.com! :D


End file.
